


Roll For Initiative

by lovelessinmanhattan



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Baz in posh shoes, Baz in posh socks, Dungeons and Dragons, Ebb is Simon's adoptive mum, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, M/M, Simon wants to be a dragon, Skeptical Agatha, The gang plays D&D!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelessinmanhattan/pseuds/lovelessinmanhattan
Summary: Simon Snow's life is perfect. Well, almost.He lives with his adoptive mum and adorable baby goats. He hangs out with his best friend every Monday. He's doing well enough in school and is looking forward to starting uni soon.But his relationship with his girlfriend seems to be getting worse and he doesn't know how to fix it.That is, until his best friend suggests they all play Dungeons and Dragons together.Simon Snow, Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce, and Basilton Pitch play D&D together. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38
Collections: Carry On Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**SIMON**

Mondays are the _worst_.

During school they suck because I have to be up early. I have to do homework and go to class and sit and be quiet all day.

During holiday they suck because they’re so damn boring. Nothing happens at all.

That’s why my best friend, Penny, comes over every Monday. She lives a few minutes away from my place and always brings my favourite snack for a picnic in my backyard.

Penny and I have known each other since we were little. 

Ebb, my adoptive mum, and Penny’s mum knew each other from uni. Plus, we went to the same primary school and in secondary school we had almost all our classes together. 

Besides, Penny is in love with Ebb’s goats. She’s always complaining how she wishes she had a dog or a cat or something, so I think she likes to come visit a lot to make up for what she doesn’t have.

There’s this one goat Penny really likes that I named Goat when I was younger. I hate the name so much, and I’ve begged Ebb to let me change it, but it never works because the goat only responds to Goat. 

It’s fucking stupid.

But Penny loves it.

She loves Goat, and she loves me. She loves Ebb and the little cottage we live in, with the woods in our backyard.

She’s on her way now, Penny is. And I can’t wait to see her. It’s been too long since it was just the two of us hanging out. Lately, my girlfriend Agatha has been accompanying us everywhere (including our Monday picnics), and I can tell Penny is getting tired of it.

So it’ll just be the two of us. And Goat. And the scones she’s bringing. (They’re sour cherry. My favourite.)

There’s a knock at the door, and I race downstairs to answer it.

Penny’s face is beaming at me when I open the door. She hands me the tray of scones, and steps inside, wiping her feet on the doormat.

“They should be warm,” she tells me. “Mum just pulled those out of the oven.”

“They smell amazing.”

She nods. “I know.” 

“It’s good to see you, Pen,” I say, attempting to wrap an arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s good to see you, too. Even though I just saw you last week. And the week before…” 

“Hush, Penny. I’m trying to be nice.”

“You’re always nice to me.”

“Yes,” I say, “well, that’s because I like you.”

“If you like me, then can we sit outside?” Penny asks.

I groan. 

“Penny…”

But Penny knows me. She knows her strengths and my weaknesses, and she knows exactly how I’ll respond when she does something.

“Of course we can sit outside,” I finally say, giving in.

It’s really hard to say no to Penny sometimes.

“Thank you,” she says, taking my hand and leading me out to the garden. The sun is shining down on us, and we’re both lying down in the grass, staring up at the clouds.

“That one looks like a balloon,” I say, pointing. 

“Those look like sand,” Penny says.  
“Sand?” I ask.

She nods.

“Rippled sand. You know, when the water calms a bit, after waves have been crashing on the shore all day. And night.”

“Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about. 

“What about that one?” Penny asks. “What do you think that one looks like?”

I stare at it, long and hard. 

“That one looks like a cloud.”

A comfortable silence falls between us. 

I close my eyes and take a breath in. I can feel a breeze blowing at my face, and I can hear the leaves as they sway back and forth. 

It’s a perfect day today. I don’t know if anything can ruin it.

Wait. Shit.

“Fuck,” I say. “Agatha.”

Penny looks at me. “What about her?”

“I think we were supposed to go out today. On a date.” 

“Oh, Simon,” Penny says, shaking her head at me. “If it’s any comfort, I think Agatha forgot about it too.”

“How d’you know that?”

Penny sits up. “Don’t you think she would’ve called? Or sent you a message?”

“Yeah, I guess…” 

“Simon, it’s time I was finally honest with you,” Penny says to me. “You and Agatha are two of my closest and best friends, but I don’t like that you’re dating each other.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s not like your relationship is going well,” Penny says.

“Wait. What?”

“You and Agatha aren’t exactly compatible. And you don’t seem very happy together.

“Agatha and I _are_ happy together!”

“Then why don’t either of you look happy when you’re together?” Penny asks.

“We do,” I say. “ _I_ do.”

“You don’t,” Penny says. “Agatha doesn’t, either. You both look absolutely miserable when you’re together.”

“Penny--”

She cuts me off.

“Look, Simon, all I’m saying is that I don’t think what you have with Agatha is healthy for either of you. You both deserve to be with someone who loves you, and it’s just not happening anymore. Not with each other.”

Penny can’t really think that… 

No. It’s not true. It can’t be.

Or is it?

Penny always ends up being right about everything. Maybe she’ll be right about this as well. But I don’t want to think about that. About all the bad things that could happen between Agatha and me. What our relationship could end up being… 

“Agatha and I are just going through a rough patch,” I tell Penny. “Every couple goes through rough patches. We just need to talk and then everything will be okay.”

“Simon, you and Agatha don’t talk to each other. Not about this kind of stuff.”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Penny rolls her eyes at me. 

“Yes, of course you will.”

“I will!” I insist. “I just need to talk to her about some stuff. Like how she always feels really distant when we’re hanging out.”

“Is that all?”

“And how she’s never free to go out. And how she hasn’t been kissing me lately or holding my hand.”

Penny gives me a look.

“Simon,” she says softly. “I don’t know if things with Agatha can be fixed.”

“I have to try.”

“I guess I can’t stop you,” Penny sighs. “So I’ll try to help you!”

“Wait, weren’t you just saying--”

“According to you, all you and Agatha need to do is talk. And there’s no better way to make that happen than team-building exercises!”

“I think there are lots of ways that are better,” I say.

Penny ignores me.

“Should we organise a group activity?”

“We?” I ask. “Penny, who is we?”

“You and Agatha and I.”

“You?”

“Yes,” Penny says. “You and Agatha don’t know how to talk to each other, so I thought it’d be a good idea if you had someone there to help you. It might prompt you both, and keep the conversation flowing.”

“Are you sure that’s really a good idea?”

Penny shrugs. “It can’t be a bad idea.”

“Fine,” I say, giving Penny a nod of approval. “What do you suggest, then?”

Penny doesn’t answer me for a moment.

I can tell she’s thinking. She always gets this funny look whenever she is, and I can practically see all the gears and cogs turning in her head.

“We could play a game,” she suggests. 

“A game?”

Penny nods.

“What kind of game?” I ask.

“A team building game,” she answers. 

“Penny, we’re not a team.”

“Doesn’t matter!”

Penny goes quiet for a minute, and then her face lights up with joy. 

“I’ve got it!” she exclaims. “We’ll play Dungeons and Dragons!”

“Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Oh, Simon. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dungeons and Dragons.”

I don’t answer. I just shrug at her.

“Dungeons and Dragons is a fantasy roleplaying game. You and a group of people have to work together to beat monsters and complete whatever adventure you’re sent on. It’s perfect!”

“Good luck getting Agatha to play,” I say. “That sounds like something she’d complain about. In fact, I’m not entirely sure that she hasn’t complained about Dungeons and Dragons.”

“She’ll play,” Penny says with confidence. “I’ll get her to.”

“How?”

“She owes me one,” Penny whispers in my ear. Then she tries to wiggle her eyebrows at me. She doesn’t do it very well.

“Do I want to know?” I ask.

“Probably not.”

“Well, okay then.”

“You’ll do it?” Penny asks.

“Yeah! Fantasy adventures sound fucking awesome.”

She hugs me goodbye, and then she’s gone.

“I have so many ideas!” Penny shouts over her shoulder, as she runs to catch the train.

I laugh at her. “Slow down!” 

“Never!” Penny’s voice echoes.

That’s Penny, alright. When she has her mind set on something, that’s all she can think about doing. She puts her whole heart into it, spends hours and hours on it.

I don’t know if this is actually a good idea. Playing this game. I mean, Agatha and I don’t even know how to play. And will it actually help us solve any of our problems? 

I can only hope that it will.

I try not to think about that anymore, and focus on the game instead. How it works. What the rules are. How everything is structured. 

I try to look some of this stuff up online, but I find that there are lots of rules and it ends up being too overwhelming for me. 

I’m sure Penny will help me, though. She’ll help me with all of it, as long as I ask nicely enough. 

I wonder if I could be a dragon…

Would Penny let me do that?

I don’t know. 

I mean, the game is called Dungeons and _Dragons_. I can be the dragon. Does that mean Agatha’s the dungeon?

Wait. I don’t think it works like that.

But what do I know? (Nothing. Obviously.)

Penny made Mondays suck a little less.

Maybe she’ll make my relationship a little better, too.

\--- 

Penny texted me this morning and said that she was going to come over. I only had a few minutes to jump out of bed and change before I heard a knock at the door.

“Hi Simon,” she says, a grin on her face. Her hands are full of books and boxes, and I’m starting to worry that maybe agreeing to play Dungeons and Dragons was a bad idea.

“Do I have to read all of that before we play?” I ask, holding the door open for Penny.

“Yes,” she says. “No.”

“Yes or no?”

She shrugs. “Kind of?”

“What does kind of mean?”

“It means that reading some of it would help you understand the rules of the game, and you would understand how to play.”

She drops all of her stuff on my bed, then searches through her pile until she finds what she’s looking for. 

“This is the _Player’s Handbook_ ,” she tells me, holding it out. 

“This looks like so much reading,” I groan, flipping through the pages.

“You don’t have to read all of it. And I’ll help you.” She smiles at me.

“Let’s get started then.”

We end up moving downstairs to the dining room, sprawling everything out on a table. I find pencils and paper, and we print blank character sheets. Penny grabs a few snacks, opens the _Player’s Handbook_ , and finds a seat at the table.

“We’ll start with your character,” Penny tells me. “You can choose a race, first. Dwarves, elves, halflings, and humans are the most popular.” Penny slides the book towards me, and lets me look at the different races.

“I want to be the dragon!”

“Simon, you can’t actually be a dragon.”

I show her the picture. “The dragonborn. He doesn’t look like a dragon, though.”

Penny looks me over for a minute, then opens a different book and flips through it. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she points at it.

“Woah,” I gasp. “It’s red!”

Penny nods. “A genasi. They resemble humans, but their skin is a different colour. They have elemental blood flowing through their veins, and it manifests in each genasi, usually as a magical power.”

“That’s fucking awesome.”

“You can choose air, earth, fire, or water.”

“Can I be a fire genasi?” I ask, reaching for a pencil.

Penny hands me a character sheet. 

“Write it here,” she tells me, pointing. “A fire genasi seems like a good fit for you. Did you know you’re always warm?”

“Penny, what does being warm have to do with fire genasi?”

“You’re always warm,” she continues, “and so are fire genasi. You could make yours have flames instead of hair, if you really wanted. Just like Hades in that Disney movie.”

“I think I just want normal hair, if that’s alright.”

“Normal… hair…,” Penny says under her breath as she jots that down on a piece of paper. “And now I’ll have you choose a class.”

Penny slides me her copy of the _Player’s Handbook_ and I flip through the pages, looking at all of my options.

“I think I like the barbarian,” I tell her. “I think the name sounds cool. And I like that they can go into a rage. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds awesome.”

“You can go into a rage as a bonus action in combat, and you’ll get certain benefits.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” I say, writing barbarian down on my character sheet. “But I think it’s good.”

“It is good. For you, anyways. Not the monsters.”

“Wait, I could’ve been a sorcerer?” I ask, pointing at the page in Penny’s book.

She nods. “You could do both, if you’d like.”

“Can I?”

“Of course!” she says, and we make a note of it on my character sheet. 

Penny walks me through everything else, and half the time, I have no clue what she’s talking about or referring to. She tells me all about ability checks and modifiers, and makes me roll a die way too many times. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but at least Penny seems to know what she’s doing. She knows where the numbers go and what they mean, and tells me that it’ll make sense when we’re playing.

“For example,” she starts, “maybe I’ll ask you to make a strength check because you want to lift a heavy item. So you roll the d20, the twenty sided die, and you’ll add your strength modifier to get the total number.”

“Why can’t I just lift it?” I ask her. “Why all the hassle with numbers and dice?” 

“It’s not as fun without dice. And it’s also too easy. If you just went around and did everything, then the campaign would be over in no time.”

I shrug. “Too easy sounds better than too hard.”

“Why don’t we try doing an encounter right now?” Penny suggests. “You can fight a monster and get a feel for how the game works.”

I nod excitedly.

“Let’s say you’re in a small village,” Penny tells me. “There are lovely shops and taverns all around you. Towards the edge of the village, near the woods, you hear a loud scream.”

“Who screamed?” 

“I can’t just tell you that! You should go find out for yourself.”

“Okay…,” I say. “I guess I walk over to see who screamed?”

Penny nods at me, and I think that’s her way of saying I’m doing something right.

She continues. “When you get to the edge of the village, you see a small elven girl. She’s hiding behind a large rock, and she’s pointing at a specter.”

“Hey Penny, what the fuck is a specter?”

“Good question,” Penny says, reaching for a book called the _Monster Manual_. “A specter is the angry, unfettered spirit of a humanoid. It’s blue and purple, and looks like a pretty demon.”

“Demons can’t be pretty.”

“It’s a game, Simon, of course demons can be pretty.”

“Anyways,” I say, “what am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Penny shrugs. “What would you like to do?”

“Can I fight it? The specter?” My voice trails off as I try to say it.

“Specter,” Penny corrects. “And yes, you can. Can you roll initiative for me? Initiative is what everyone rolls when combat starts. It gives you the playing order for each round. So just roll the d20 and add your dexterity modifier.”

“Okay…,” I say, reaching for the die. “Uh, I think that’s a 19 plus 2? So 21?”

“That’s good!” Penny tells me. “The specter didn’t roll as well, so you get to go first. Look at the stuff on your character sheet. You can cast a spell or use one of your weapons.”

“I think I’m going to cast magic missile.”

Penny nods, and has me roll damage.

“That’s a 1, a 2, and a 3. And I add 1 to each of those? So it’s a 9 altogether.”

I watch as Penny makes notes on the piece of paper that’s in front of her. She’s subtracting numbers, and I still don’t know how she knows what they all mean.

“You shoot your magic missiles at the specter, and it tries to dodge out of the way, but you end up hitting it in the shoulder. And now it’s the specter’s turn.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means now the specter can try to attack you.”

“Shit…”

“The specter is going to try and hit you. It rolls a 15 plus 4. Does that hit you?”

“I hope not,” I murmur. “How do I check?”

“Look at your armor class,” Penny tells me. “If it’s a 15 or lower, then it hits. If it’s higher, then it doesn’t.”

“Fuck, it does hit. I have a 14.”

Penny’s hand moves at lightning speed across the paper. “The specter hits you,” she says, “and you take 10 points of damage. And now it’s your turn again.”

“I want to hit it with magic missile again,” I say, and then I roll. “The specter takes 13 points of damage.”

“13 points is enough to finish him off,” Penny informs me.

“Already? That was quick.”

Penny nods in agreement. “Shall we do another?”

We end up doing a few small encounters, and by the end of it I’m feeling more confident about this Dungeons and Dragons thing. It wasn’t as bad or as confusing as I thought it would be. Penny was also right when she said I would learn a lot of it by playing.

Eventually we’re too tired to continue, so Penny heads home. I didn’t realise how late it had gotten, so I grab a bite to eat and climb in bed, exhausted and excited to start the campaign in a few days.


	2. Chapter 2

**SIMON**

It’s the fifth day in a row Penny has been at my house, and today we’re finally starting the campaign.

Agatha was here with us yesterday, and the day before, so Penny could walk her through character creation. I think she was bored the whole time. She just put down whatever Penny told her to, and left as soon as she could.

Penny complained as soon as she left.

She’s still complaining now, a day later. 

“I’m just worried about her, Si,” Penny sighs, flopping back on my bed. “What if she doesn’t like it? What if she ruins the game for us?”

“She won’t ruin the game for us,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure. “I don’t think. I just hope this helps us like you said it would.”

“I’m sure it will.”

Penny sits up when she notices I haven’t responded. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and I lean against her, closing my eyes. 

“Everything with Agatha will be alright,” Penny says. “It’s just Agatha. You know her. Be yourself and have fun, and you’ll both be okay.”

I smile at her. “Thanks, Pen.”

We sit like that for a while, and then there’s a knock on the front door. Penny jumps up and gets to it before I do, even though it’s my house and I should be the one letting people in. (I don’t mind, though.)

Penny stops in her tracks once the door is open, and I crash into her. I’m about to yell at her, when I catch a glance at who’s outside.

Agatha’s here, but she’s not the only one.

Standing next to her is a tall bloke. Long dark hair, dark skin, and cold grey eyes. He’s dressed in a ridiculous button down shirt, and jeans. (Jeans? He’s wearing  _ jeans _ ?!)

Baz Pitch.

I know him from school, but I wish I didn’t.

He’s rich and posh and stupidly handsome, and I can’t fucking stand him. We both tried out for the football team a few years ago, and of course, he got in and I didn’t. He also pushed me down the stairs last year, which pretty much confirmed my suspicions that he hates me. 

He steals everything from me. He gets everything I want, does everything I want to do.

And now he’s trying to steal my girlfriend as well.

That’s just fucking awesome. 

“You’re not supposed to be here, Basil,” Penny says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She glares at him. And he glares back.

“I was invited,” he replies coolly. “I didn’t want to be rude and say no.”

“You were invited without our consent,” Penny shoots back. “That means the invitation doesn’t count.”

Agatha looks at Penny. And then at me. And then at Baz. And then she huffs and stands in front of him, forcing Penny and I away from Baz.

“Well if he’s not playing, then I’m not, either,” she announces. “You can’t make me.”

“Fine. We won’t then.” Penny tugs on my arm, pulling me away from Baz and Agatha and towards the other room. “Come on, Simon. We have a campaign to play.”

Baz steps around Agatha, getting closer to Penny and me. (I can hear his shoes clacking on the tile. Why the fuck does he have shoes that clack? And why the hell did he wear them to come play Dungeons and Dragons?) 

“You know that’s bullshit, Bunce,” he says. “We both do.”

“What d’you mean?” she asks, looking up at Baz.

He’s smirking now, the posh bastard. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe that he’s trying  _ this  _ with Penny of all people. And I really won’t believe if she falls for it. 

“Most campaigns are best suited for four people,” he explains, as if he knows what he’s talking about. (I think he might?)

He continues:

“Three is a good number, too. Oh, and what an absolute shame that you won’t get to see the character I made. He’s a human sorcerer, but I had other ideas I wanted to try out that I think you would like…” 

“You know D&D?” Penny asks.

He nods.

Well, fuck.

He’s definitely got her hooked. The hope I was holding onto that he wouldn’t play has all disappeared. I know it’s useless. He’s going to get his goddamn bloody way, and I’m going to be stuck tolerating his awful fucking arse for who knows how long.

Penny goes quiet, and I can tell that she’s torn on what to do. I know she wouldn’t go against me and tell Baz to stay without my permission. She’s too stubborn and loyal for that. But I also know how excited she was to play, and part of me feels awful throwing that all away.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world melts away around us, leaving only Penny and me. There’s no Baz. No Agatha. No house. No goats. Just us.

I sigh, and then give a curt nod. She grins at me, and everything surrounding us returns, including Baz. 

“You’re in,” Penny tells him, sticking out her hand for him to shake. 

He does.

“I kind of hoped you wouldn’t actually let him play,” Agatha groans. “I was counting on it. That means I have to play now, too.”

“Yeah, and I have to play with  _ him _ ,” I say, gesturing at Baz, who just stands there, looming, smirking at us.

“Oh, lighten up, Wellbelove,” he teases, nudging into her side. “This’ll be fun.”

Agatha huffs. “Right. Fun. For who?” 

“For all of us!” Penny exclaims, leading us into the sun room, where there’s a table and three chairs. (I end up pulling another chair for Baz from the dining room.) Ebb made us some snacks earlier, so there are plates full of scones and mini sandwiches. I take two of each.

Baz makes himself right at home, kicking his shoes off (even his socks are posh and stupid looking) and leaning back in his chair, hanging an arm off the back of it. He stretches his legs out in front of him and crosses his feet. His legs bump into mine, so I kick him back.

Baz shakes his head. “Simmer down, Snow. I came here to have fun, and you’re ruining the mood.”

I aggressively take a bite of my sandwich.

“Penny,” I whisper, “why is he here again? He’s an infuriating prat. I don’t know how long I can handle him.”

“He’s here because you and Agatha don’t know how to play,” Penny whispers back. 

“But, Penny--” 

She shushes me and turns to face Baz and Agatha. 

“Can I have your character sheets?” she asks them. “I have Simon’s. And Agatha, I have your old one. I think we fixed some stuff, though.”

“Here’s mine,” Baz says, handing her a binder that’s full of papers.

Penny’s eyes light up. “ _ Whoa _ .”

“I have my character sheet in there, along with details about my character’s past, for a bit of light reading. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Agatha’s nose crinkles with disgust. “You call that light?”

Baz nods.

“Bastard,” I grumble under my breath.

“What’s that, Snow?” He grins.

“You don’t want to know.”

His eyes meet mine and he stares at me, long and hard.

“Oh, but I do.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell Penny’s getting nervous. She sets Baz’s binder on the floor and claps her hands.

“Should we start?” she asks.

Baz nods. (I’m still cursing at him under my breath.) 

“I think I’ll have you all introduce your characters first,” Penny tells us, flipping open her notebooks. “Just tell us a little about who your character is and where they come from. Who wants to go first?

“Me,” Baz and I say at the same time. Don’t ask me how that happened-- I don’t have a fucking clue. 

“I’m going first,” Baz growls, crushing my foot with his own. (I imagine that would hurt a lot more if he still had those stupid posh shoes on.)

“No,” I say, smiling as I kick Baz in the shin. “I’m going first. This was supposed to be my campaign and of course you come to fuck the whole thing over. The least you can do is let me introduce my character first.”

Agatha gasps. “Simon, you can’t say that to him. He’s my friend. If you can’t respect that, then I don’t want to be here.”

“Okay.” I look down at the floor, avoiding Agatha’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t need to see Baz to know that he’s probably smirking right now. The smug bastard is pleased with himself, I’m sure of it. I think it’s his life goal to make everything I do miserable, and so far, I’d say he’s exceeding expectations. 

Penny sighs, and closes her notebook. “Should we wait until next week?”

“Perhaps,” Baz says. 

Agatha looks relieved. “Yes, please.”

“I guess,” I mumble. 

“Okay, that sounds good,” Penny says, closing her books. “Besides, now I can make the campaign better suited for three players!”

Baz sits up, putting his shoes back on. “Same time next week?”

“Sure,” I say. “Whatever.”

Penny smiles at him. “Perfect. I’ll walk you out?” 

He nods, and they both leave the room. Now it’s just Agatha and me.

“Why him?” I ask her. “Why is he here? Why did you think that would be a good idea?”

“He’s my friend, Simon. Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“You are,” I say. “Just not him.”

Agatha shakes her head and turns away from me.

“Simon, you can’t control who I’m friends with.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” she says. Her voice is cold.

“Can you try and explain it, then?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Aggie, please. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Don’t call me Aggie.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t like it.”

She’s standing now. I grab her hands.

“Agatha…”

“I should go. Baz is waiting for me.”

Baz shouldn’t be waiting for her. Baz shouldn’t be here. I should be the one walking her out and making sure she gets home safely. Not him.

I just end up nodding. “Okay.”

She grabs her coat and her bag, and just as she’s about to walk through the door, I grab her hand again and pull her closer, leaning in. I go to kiss her but she moves away and half-hugs me instead.

I can feel my heart drop in my chest.

I follow Agatha out of the sun room and to the foyer, where Penny is rambling on about something and Baz looks interested. That’s surprising.

Baz turns to face Agatha and I when he notices us standing there.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks. 

She nods.

“It was nice talking, Bunce, but I’m afraid I have to be on my way now,” Baz tells Penny. “I need to get Wellbelove home.”

“Wait,” I say, “you drove her here--”

“Goodbye,” Baz cuts me off, waving at Penny. Agatha follows him. She doesn’t wave, or say goodbye. 

“That absolute prick,” I grumble. “He’s ruined fucking everything. I shouldn’t have let him stay, or join the campaign.”

“Simon,” Penny says, her expression softening. “You could’ve told him he couldn’t play.”

I wave it off. “Yeah, I know. But you were so excited.”

“And I still am! Baz has some really good ideas for his character, we were discussing some of the logistics of it--”

She stops talking when she notices my face. I’m trying not to look bloody pissed off, but I don’t know if it’s working that well.

“What’s wrong, Si?” Penny’s voice is soft and comforting. 

I want to tell Penny that I think she’s right, that maybe Agatha and I aren’t meant to be together, but I don’t think I’m going to. I really don’t want her to be right. Not about this.

I also don’t want to think about any of this.

About Agatha or Baz, or what any of this means for the future. 

I think talking to Penny would mean talking about that. And I don’t want to. So I’m not going to. No one can make me. 

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just tired. Still angry about Baz fucking Pitch showing up at my house unannounced.”

“Are you sure?”

_ No… _

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

I can tell Penny’s not convinced, but she drops the topic anyways. She just takes my hand and leads me to the sofa. We both sit down and I let her wrap an arm around my shoulder.

“Remember when we were little and we used to snuggle like this all the time?” Penny asks. “We would find all the blankets we could and pile them on top of your bed. And then we’d jump in with our stuffed animals and hide ourselves.”

I smile at the memory.

“I always wanted that panda you had,” I tell her. “My goat definitely wasn’t as cool.”

“I liked your stuffed goat.”

“The real goats did, too.”

Penny starts laughing, and she can’t seem to stop herself. It makes me start laughing as well, and soon we’re crying because of it.

“Oh, Simon. Remember when stuffed goats and blanket nests were our biggest problems? I wish we could go back.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I groan. “Girls are so much harder to handle than stuffed goats.”

“Hey,” Penny says, elbowing me in the side. “I’m a girl.”

“You’re an exception.”

She grins at me, then rests her head on mine.

“You’re going to be okay,” she tells me. “You’ll get through this.

“Yeah,” I say. “I hope so.”

“We have each other. That’s how I know everything will be okay. I have you, and I know you’ll always be there. That’ll never change.”

Some things don’t change, and my friendship with Penny is one of them.

“I love you, Pen.”

She smiles at me. “I love you too, Simon.”

**BAZ**

I’ll be honest. I wasn’t expecting Wellbelove to ask me if I’d go with her. 

I knew that she had to go to Snow’s house to play with him and Penelope, and I knew that she had been dreading it for days.

“I really don’t want to go,” she had complained over the phone. “Simon will be there, and so will Penny.”

“I thought you liked them.”

“I do,” she said. “Penny gets on my nerves if I’m with her for too long. And Simon. You know about that.”

I do. I’ve known about that for years now. 

I know all about Simon and Agatha, and how it isn’t the happily ever after one of them had been envisioning. (I’ll give you a hint: It’s not Agatha.)

“Don’t look too happy,” Agatha teased. “I know what you’re thinking.”

She was right. She knew what I was thinking in that moment.

“All those feelings of yours will disappear as soon as you meet Ebb,” Agatha told me. “And the goats. They’re all so strange.”

“Wait, you’re telling me Snow has goats?” 

Agatha nodded.

“Jokes on you, Wellbelove. I like goats.”

I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me. 

We talked for a little while longer, and then we hung up. I was getting tired, and Agatha wanted to watch a new episode of a show. (I rolled my eyes at her for that.)

I had only suggested to Agatha that she could bring me as a joke. I didn’t expect her to actually ask me if I wanted to go. 

But she did. And of course I said yes.

In that moment, though, I discovered three fundamental truths about me. About why I said yes. 

The first is that Agatha’s my friend. We’ve known each other for years now, through our parents, and if I weren’t gay, I’m sure they’d have arranged our marriage by now. 

I was over at her house one night, for the posh Christmas parties the Wellbeloves throw. All the little ones, Agatha and I included, were sent to the lounge room to watch a movie. Agatha sat next to me, and we started talking. 

We haven’t stopped since.

Agatha and I talk about everything.

I tell her about school and homework, and she asks me which nail varnish will match her outfit for tomorrow. Now she tells me about Simon, and how awkward her relationship with him is. I complain about my father, and how he handled my coming out.

Agatha was there for me when I realised I was gay. (She was actually the first person I told. I knew she wouldn’t care.) She couldn’t really give me advice or help me at all, but she supported me and held my hand through it all. 

I think that’s what I needed at the time. Support. I needed someone to hold me, and to tell me I was okay. That there was nothing wrong with me.

She was there when my father found out. I could tell he was disappointed, but he hid it. I think that’s what hurts the worst.

He doesn’t like to acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to be the one with a gay kid, so he pretends he isn’t.

It was too much for me.

All my life, I’ve tried to be the person my father wants me to be. I try to be perfect, like him. Like my mother. I try to do what they would, to please him. 

It worked out well enough. Until that.

Then, nothing I did was ever enough. I was never good enough, and I could never please him. He was always dissatisfied with everything, and it tore me apart.

I thought I had lost everything. I didn’t think I could keep being this person, this fucking disappointment.

I thought it’d be better if I was gone. Then I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone, or let anyone down. I wouldn’t be a failure.

Agatha was there for that, too. 

She told me I was everything I needed to be. She told me that it didn’t matter if I lived up to expectations. I just need to set them for myself.

I’ll never admit this to Agatha, but I think she saved my life. She helped me in a way I couldn’t have ever imagined.

She always says she doesn’t want to be a hero or damsel, and that she simply wants to exist and live for herself.

She’s a hero to me, though. In a way.

She’s been there for me countless times. I couldn’t just let her down by saying no.

I don’t think she’d care, though. If I had said no. She just wouldn’t have gone herself.

Agatha doesn’t care about a lot of things.

School. Expectations. My being gay. I don’t think she cares what I do, as long as I’m still breathing. 

But, there’s something else I’m scared she’ll care about. That she’ll freak out over.

Enter truth number two. 

Agatha doesn’t know everything about me. Hell, I don’t even know everything about me. But I know about this. Or, I think I do.

I’ve been keeping a secret from Agatha for years. A pretty big secret. 

I don’t know what she’d do if I ever told her. I don’t really want to find out.

There’s no reason for me to find out, anyways. I know how this story goes, and it doesn’t end well for me. It never does.

I’ll end up in the same place I was before. Upset. Angry. Heartbroken, by someone who doesn’t know half of what’s going on.

Agatha doesn’t need to know. I don’t even like knowing, sometimes. It feels like the burden of it is going to come crashing down on me.

Some days, it feels like Simon Snow is going to come crashing down on me. 

Number three. I love Simon Snow.

I love him so much, and it hurts. 

All he does is glare at me, shoot me looks whenever he sees me. He’s snappy and I can tell he hates me. I know he does.

So I try to hate him, too.

I try to pretend that Simon Snow is a person I’ve hated for years. I convince myself that he’s a threat, that he wants the worst for me. 

I scowl back. I piss him off. I fight back as hard as I can. I do everything to try and make his life miserable with the hopes that it’ll make mine feel better.

It doesn’t.

It never works. It never has. And I don’t think it’s going to.

So I suffer.

I watch from a distance as he kisses Wellbelove on the cheek, as he holds her hand. I endure all that he throws at me, the punches, the words, the looks.

It tears me apart. I crumble. I break.

And then he puts me together again. 

He’ll smile, grin. His curls will fall in his face, his dimples will show. He looks happier, radiant even, like he’s glowing.

He’s the sun. He’s every bright star in the galaxy, and all I can do is stay in his orbit. I’m the planets, the asteroids, everything that revolves around him.

He’s everything to me.

He doesn’t know it, though.

He’s stupidly in love with Agatha, and I think Agatha is stupidly in love with me. It’s a cruel cycle, and I don’t want to be the one to break it.

Simon isn’t going to know any of this. Penelope won’t. Agatha won’t.

They can’t know.

It’s too dangerous.

Everything could come crashing down around me. If I get too close, the sun will burn. Simon will burn.

I think if anyone were to find out, everything would go down in flames. (Literally. Simon had so many candles lit in his house, which seems unnecessary. It’s warm outside, what does he need candles for?) (Also metaphorically. I’m sure Bunce will throw in a dragon, and dragons breathe fire.)

There’s no way for me to avoid my fate. I’m going to burn, and no one is going to be there to put the fire out.

I think about what it would be like if things were different. If Simon cared about me.

Maybe he’d be kissing me right now, instead of Agatha. Maybe he’d invite me over to see the goats, to meet Ebb. Maybe I’d hang out with Bunce more, and we’d become better friends. 

I don’t know what I’d do if Simon Snow loved me. It would be so different and new. I’d be afraid of everything all the time.

I’d push him away, probably. I’d be cold and cruel. I would be afraid to touch him, afraid to kiss him knowing that I might fuck it all up.

It’s not Simon Snow that scares me.

It’s the idea of being with him that does.

Yet, I still yearn. I still melt every time he looks at me, even when I know it’s a glare. I pushed him down the stairs once, and the feeling I got from touching him still lingers.

It’s brutal.

I can make it, though. I’ll survive.

I just have to hide myself from him. Conceal everything. Keep up this cruel facade, keep pretending that I despise Simon Snow.

It’s the only way to protect myself and those around me.

Maybe I lied when I said I wasn’t expecting Agatha to invite me. 

Maybe I thought that by saying that, she might actually consider it. That she might actually end up inviting me.

I think I had hoped that she would. I knew that she didn’t want to be stuck by herself with Penelope and Simon, and I figured she would want the company. 

I knew that if she said yes, I’d be able to be near Simon Snow, and he wouldn’t be able to turn me down. Well, I suppose he could. But he hasn’t. He had the chance to, and he didn’t, so I don’t think he’s going to.

Simon Snow knew I was plotting. He knew I was there for a reason, and he wants to know why.

He’ll never fucking know. No one will.

And if he does find out… 

I’m ready to burn. To be devoured and consumed by his flames, by his light.

That’s what happens to moons, to the planets. It’ll happen to the sun, too.

It’ll all go down in flames. And I’ll be the first to burn.

**Author's Note:**

> a huge thanks to @KrisRix and @Visinata for beta reading!


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